


Unheard Of.

by Thrasirshall



Category: Before Crisis: Final Fantasy VII, Compilation of Final Fantasy VII
Genre: M/M, Oral Sex, Smut meme prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-01
Updated: 2016-03-01
Packaged: 2018-05-24 05:40:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6143272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thrasirshall/pseuds/Thrasirshall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A smut prompt written for TwoCatsTailoring (prev: Bourbonandmint) / TurkMama on Tumblr, also viewable on my RP blog: Theshinraheir</p><p>Rufus ShinRa doesn't like to be heard by unwanted ears.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unheard Of.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TwoCatsTailoring](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwoCatsTailoring/gifts).



Desk sex was something that had crossed Rufus’ mind, but often dismissed on the simple basis that it sounded uncomfortable. That, and the knowledge that someone could hear them greatly put him off.

Tseng on the other hand, had other ideas. Over the course of their… (relationship?) agreement, Rufus had learned that Tseng liked to live a little bit dangerously. 

Liked to take little risks he knew he could get away with.  
They all did.  
  
_Crazy Turks._

The first time Tseng had suggested it, it was late in the evening, and most people had gone home to their families.  
Rufus avoided dinner with his father by staying late, and was in the middle of an email when Tseng slowly pulled his chair back from the desk, Rufus’ fingers sliding off the keyboard.  
  
The outright ‘no’ was too surprising to be taken with offence.  
The cleaners were about.  
_They’d be heard,_ Rufus said.   
  
His father had a reputation of flirting and even getting up to … other things in his office, and it seemed Rufus was not going to share in that habit.  
Not that it stopped the blond from sneaking out for his own fun - but he was much more subtle about it.  
Up until the Turks caught him, of course.   
This was why Tseng decided upon their arrangement, to make sure Rufus’ fun was _safe,_ and where they knew he was.

At first, it took some cajoling and a bribe here and there to at least take a break on the couch one evening. For a moment, Tseng thought he had Rufus where he wanted, until they heard his secretary sneeze loudly, and dropped her files.

Rufus liked this secretary enough to quickly get up and see if she was all right. 

Tseng tried the office, on the desk, the breakroom - even the holding cell where NO ONE but a Turk could enter - Rufus still refused. Same excuse.  
They’d be heard.   
Work was work, and Rufus would not budge.  
Tseng had to give Rufus credit for sticking to his guns.

But, after a frustrating two weeks, Rufus decided one evening to take Tseng to  _Little Midgar_  to quell the tension.   
  
It was then did Tseng learn how Rufus pushed all of the right buttons - oh, and revenge.   
Rufus was _far_ too good at revenge.   
  
Their table was deliberately small with little personal space, and at one point, Rufus lifted a foot - out of his shoe, to sit it between Tseng’s legs. It stroked his thigh, a toe crossed over his belt, felt the holster for materia -   
  
Then Rufus smiled that infuriating smile Tseng liked to violently kiss off.   
  
How the Turk kept his face straight, Rufus just _had_ to learn.  
He enjoyed his meal, and commented on how Tseng didn’t seem all that hungry. How disappointing.  
It took all of the Turk’s will not to break the Vice-President’s ankle, focusing on watching him eat instead. How delicately Rufus put the food on the fork, enjoying his meal _nice and slowly…._

All while Rufus’ toes tapped against his crotch.  
  
Tseng’s shoulders sank slightly when the offending foot went away, and felt able to breathe again.   
Rufus had made his point.   
Or, so Tseng thought.  
Tseng learned, the hard way, that his future boss **meant** it when business and pleasure were to be strictly kept separate.  
  
Once he was finished his meal, Rufus insisted on their dessert in the smoking room of the restaurant; did he then climb underneath the oak table they were seated at.   
  
There were other patrons of the restaurant, and even with the private booths - one could still hear if they really wanted.  
  
Tseng slammed a hand onto his head - whether to stop Rufus or otherwise, but by then he was hard and dreadfully uncomfortable in his suit. Deft fingers had already unzipped his pants. He stared around, seeing if anyone had noticed Rufus just _vanishing_.  
  
“It’ll be up to you to explain yourself if they hear you.” Rufus said softly, leaning a cheek against his knee, and his blue eyes were alight with an almost evil intent, before his mouth occupied something else.   
  
Tseng gripped Rufus’ hair hard, and smiled at the passing waiter.  
Thus began three seconds of the hardest _thank you_ Tseng ever had to say, in the most normal tone he could muster, while said waiter poured him a glass of water.  
  
By some miracle - Odin, Leviathan, Tseng didn’t care, he thanked them all anyway -  
  
_no one heard them._


End file.
